


let's give it a minute before we admit that we're through

by honey_pots



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Falling In Love Again, Lena Luthor Knows Kara Danvers Is Supergirl, Post-Break Up, and lena is... learning how to live her life, and she's been supergirl for several years, lena got her therapy, like seven years post-break up, she's healing, sort of a future fic, they're in their late 20's early 30's, where kara's an establish journalist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-03-09 19:36:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18923671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honey_pots/pseuds/honey_pots
Summary: “I know that our complicated past may pose a problem for any potential future between us. So… how about we forget it? About the past.”“Like, starting over?”“Well, not exactly. I don’t expect us to be friends again, but I… I’d really like to be part of your life again. Even if—even if it’s only a small part.” And Kara has to pause the conversation there in order to try to process it all. Everything seems all too much at the moment. The words Lena speaks. The muted hope in her eyes. The past that hangs over them. The part where she was left behind. There were just... bad things there.But there were good parts too, weren't there? So, maybe it’s time she started focusing on them.“I, uh. I think I’d like that too.”And she’ll start by making new ones.--or Kara and Lena fall in love again. And... that's it.





	let's give it a minute before we admit that we're through

**Author's Note:**

> another one-shot. this is in canon-verse, but i didn't stick to any particular season for this one. although i suppose it's mostly set in s2 with characters from s3 and s4 appearing/being mentioned. as mentioned in the summary, aside from lena and kara falling in love, there's not really any plot. i hope you enjoy the read. let me know what you think!
> 
> also, thank you for the kudos/bookmarks/comments from before. i always appreciate it. 
> 
> title is from hard feelings by lorde.

It’s purely coincidence. A bad one. If Kara had known that she was in the city, she never would have left her apartment, much less go to Noonan’s, local hangout spot that it is. Perhaps that’s a bit dramatic, but Kara feels too caught off guard when she finds iridescent green eyes across the room. She recognizes the shade immediately, recognizes the open surprise in them a little less but it’s impossible for her not to know those eyes.

Even if it has been seven years since she’s last seen them.

Kara briefly wonders if she’s hallucinating or if she’s still in bed, having one of _those_ dreams. But then, Lena blinks and looks away, so she knows it’s not her imagination being mean to her again. Because if it was, Lena would have stood up and said hello. She would have at least  _tried_ to talk to Kara. But, of course, _of course_ , in reality, Lena doesn’t do that. After all, she didn’t even have the decency to break up with Kara properly before dropping off the face of the earth.

It’s been a long time since Kara’s let herself feel something for her lost flame, but her heart burns at that moment. It burns with disappointment and hurt and anger. The burn in her chest quickly overwhelms her, and Kara  _has_ to get out of there, has to escape from the room that suddenly seems to not have any air to breathe. She spins on her heels, blinking rapidly against the prickling of tears stinging her eyes as she walks away. Because,  _Rao_ darn it, Lena Luthor should not be affecting her like this anymore.

“Kara, wait!” And yet, for a brief moment, her heart pumps with hope and elation because Lena chased after her.  _Rao_ , Lena chased after her.  _She should have done that seven years ago_ , the more vindictive side of her hisses. But she stomps those thoughts down. As mad as she is, as hurt as she is, Kara could get her closure and finally move on. So she stops and waits as Lena catches up to her.

And when she turns, she can’t help but assess her. Lena looks good. Healthy. Lighter. Different. She’s dressed casually—truly dressed down—in jeans and a t-shirt. And her stance, though slightly nervous, is open and loose. Yet, somehow, she’s still the same. The way she worries at her bottom lip while debating what to say is the same. The way she fidgets briefly with her hands before settling them on her sides is the same. Her manners, the little ticks, Kara recognizes them immediately. Even after all these years, she can still get a read on her.

She doesn’t know how to feel about that.

“I—uh—I just…” Lena trails off uncertain, going back to chewing on her lip before settling on. “Hi.”

“Hi...?”

“That’s—that isn’t what I wanted to say. I wanted,” she takes in a deep breath, and she squares her shoulders. And the stance is such a blast to the past that Kara suddenly feels unsure if she’s in the present. “I wanted to say that I’m glad that you got to live the life you wanted.” Kara swallows, knowing that Lena’s not just talking about her Pulitzer Prize, that she’s talking about a cape-wearing elephant that neither will mention. “And well, that’s it really. I should let you go now. Sorry to, uh, to interrupt your day.”

That’s it? That’s all Lena’s going to say? Kara’s so stunned that Lena actually does turn around to walk away—and no. That’s not it. That’s not it at all for Kara. Lena can’t just walk away again. It isn’t—it isn’t fair. So, Kara closes the distance between them, faster than she should have in public, but she just can’t believe Lena is actually walking away again. Lena startles when she blocks her path, but she doesn’t protest to being kept from wherever she has to be.

It takes a while for Kara to say what she wants. For all her achievements in writing, words still have trouble finding their way off her tongue. “I just… I want to understand why you left.”

“Honestly?” Lena inhales deeply, huffing out a laugh like she can’t believe what she’s about to say. And Kara understands the sentiment when the next words she says are, “I wanted to protect you from… from my family. At least, that’s what I told myself. I would think ‘this is for the greater good’ and I thought I had to leave you because I loved—love you, and I couldn’t put you in harm’s way by being with you. But that’s all just an excuse, isn’t it?”

“That. I—” She doesn’t really know how to respond to that, doesn’t know how to process  _because I love you_ as a reason for leaving (because it’s not a reason, but an excuse as Lena had said), for abandoning her like… like so many others. She thought Lena would be an exception. But she hadn’t been. And frankly, “I deserved—deserve better than that.”

“I agree.” It comes honestly and, surprisingly, without even a hint of self-depreciation. Lena shrugs, her mouth curling bittersweet at the way Kara halts, utterly gobsmacked by the easy admission. “It’s true. I never should have done that. Good intentions or not, my actions, the consequences of them—I hurt you. And I can’t—I would never—deny that. So, yes, Kara. I agree. You  _do_ deserve better.”

“I don’t—I don’t know what to say to that.”

“That’s okay. I just… I want you to know that I  _am_ sorry for the hurt I caused… cause you. And I—if it’s okay with you—I want to make up for it.”

“I don’t know how you possibly can.” The words slip out before Kara can really think them over. And though they’re not said to hurt, it clearly stings Lena, going by the way her shoulders raise minutely. Kara can’t tide over the pang of guilt, habitual and instinctive, that twists at her heart. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. You’re right.” It’s weird. It’s weird how non-self-deprecating Lena’s been. And that’s probably not a nice thing to say, but it’s true. Had Kara said what she did years ago, Lena would have shrunk in on herself or her shutters would have come down hard. But this Lena still stands on even footing, smiling still. It’s a small one, but genuine and a touch sad. And her expression, it remains open to Kara’s criticism. “I know that our complicated past may pose a problem for any potential future between us. So… how about we forget it? About the past.”

“Like, starting over?”

“Well, not exactly. I don’t expect us to be friends again, but I… I’d really like to be part of your life again. Even if—even if it’s only a small part.” And Kara has to pause the conversation there in order to try to process it all. Everything seems all too much at the moment. The words Lena speaks. The muted hope in her eyes. The past that hangs over them. The part where she was left behind. There were just... bad things there.

But there were good parts too, weren't there? So, maybe it’s time she started focusing on them.

“I, uh. I think I’d like that too.”

And she’ll start by making new ones.

—

The thing with Lena is that before they dated, before three years of a relationship, they had been best friends. It didn’t matter that they had only met a year prior before pursuing a romantic relationship, they had clicked easily after Kara had stumbled her way through talking to the pretty girl that rode the same bus. And during that time, Kara found her life blending seamlessly with Lena’s. Days filled with texts and calls naturally. So when Lena texts her—because Kara’s the one who never changed her number—she finds that they immediately fall into a pattern.

Lena texts first, always. The messages come every few days which gives Kara space to text back or start a new conversation in between. And it’s impossible to stop the warmth in her heart when she realizes this, realizes that Lena’s giving her control while also taking an initiative to keep contact. In the weeks since they saw each other, Lena doesn’t ask to meet again—much to Kara’s relief because she doesn’t think she’d say no, but she doesn’t feel ready to do that either. She doesn’t ask for much, really. The most she does ask is a variation of the phrase _how are you?_ and even then, Lena doesn’t ask for details.

Today, Kara responds with  _Good. I’m just about to grab lunch with Alex!_ accompanied by a variety of emojis, but not as many as she’d send Alex or Nia.

Lena hasn’t responded yet which is  _fine_ because she’s probably busy—though, Kara’s not entirely sure what she’s up to these days; career-wise; life-wise—but Kara finds herself glancing at her phone as she and Alex wait for their food to arrive. It lights up a few times with emails and other notifications, but none from Lena. She swipes the notifications off her screen, frowning and disliking the way she’s starting to buzz with giddy impatience.

(It feels too much like when they first started dating.)

“—and Brainy said that he was going to ask Nia out.”

“What?” She snaps her head up, eyes wide as she catches Alex’s words. She perks up, excited by the news. “Brainy’s finally going to ask her out?”

“Well, no, but it’s nice to know that that’s what gets your attention. Figures you’re  _way_ too invested in their relationship.” Alex rolls her eyes fondly. And Kara thinks she’s a hypocrite because she knows Alex is just as invested in them getting together as she is. She’s about to say as much but Alex’s eyes narrow and she points her spoon at her, an accusation clear in the movement. “You’ve been looking at your phone a lot lately.”

“What? No, I haven’t.”

“Yes. You have.”

“No. I haven’t.” Alex raises a pointed brow, clearly trying to wait her out instead of arguing back (because then they’ll descend into endless bickering of  _yes, you have’s_ and  _no, I haven’t’s_ ). Kara studiously looks away, but the weight of her sister’s stare is heavy and honestly, even though she’s almost thirty, Alex’s no-nonsense stare still makes her sweat. But she doesn’t know how to say  _I saw Lena and we’ve been texting, kind of_ without saying—well, without saying exactly that.

She ends up saying exactly that, though.

“Lena? As in Lena Luthor?” Kara nods, breathing in deeply as she steels herself for an oncoming lecture. They haven’t talked about Lena in a long while, and when they did, Alex typically didn’t have anything nice to say if she said anything at all. And, really, Kara knows that the vitriol—if it can be called that—is all for show because Alex _absolutely_ loved Lena when she brought her home. The lecture doesn’t come (yet), and Kara looks up to find that Alex’s face has twisted into a dubious expression. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” she answers honestly. “It’s kind of confusing. I feel like… no time has passed. But I know,  _I know_ , that it’s been seven years. But I also know that a lot can happen in seven years.”

“Yeah. Seven years is a long time,” and here it comes, “Especially when someone that claims to love you ghosts you the entire time.”

“I know, Alex. I was there when it happened.” Alex holds up her hands, relenting when Kara puts a little heat behind her words. She knows, she does, but she and Lena are trying to start over without letting their past hang over them.  _Rao_ knows that Kara had let it hang over her for a long, long time. She just wants to try to move on; to genuinely, actually, move on. “We’re just… trying to move forward, okay?”

“Okay, okay.” Her sister reaches over to take her hand, squeezing it. “I know that you’re a big girl and everything,” Kara snorts, tapping her foot against Alex’s shin. Alex kicks back, the steel toe of her boot thumping against her calf, but Kryptonian biology and all that. “But just remember to put yourself first, alright?”

“Yeah, I know, Al. I know.”

“And if she hurts you again, just let me know.”

“Alex.” She goes for scolding but her sister just shrugs it off. Kara knows she’s kidding—mostly—but she finds herself defending Lena anyway. Old habits and all that. “She’s changed, you know. I don’t think she’ll be making the same mistakes again.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” She doesn’t elaborate, doesn’t get the chance too either because their food arrives and they promptly move on from the conversation. Or well, verbally anyway. But Kara’s own words echo in her mind.  _She’s changed_ , she tells herself. And it’s true from the little time that Kara interacted with her. That was evidence enough as is. And Kara’s rather optimistic that it’ll continue to hold true.

—

Kara wrings her hands as she rides the elevator up the National City branch of Spheerical Industries. Despite her tendency to get involved with big tech industries in the city, she’s never once touched Spheerical in the year since they established themselves in town. And while exclusive interviews are always exciting, Kara feels a little out of depth with this one. She firmly believes that it should have gone to someone in the science column, but Cat had asked—she had  _actually asked_ —her to take it. Now science, Kara knows science. But earth science is an entirely different beast.

(She used to think it primitive. And, in a way, she was right to think so. But only because her people were thousands upon thousands of years ahead of humans.)

She inhales slowly as the elevator finally arrives at the top floor. It’s eerily silent when the doors ding up. As in, she can hardly even hear the hum of the lights. It’s like the entire room has been muted. Kara cringes as her footsteps echo. But, at the very least, the secretary doesn’t seem bothered by the sudden intrusion of noise. In fact, she doesn’t even look up as Kara approaches and continues to type away until Kara’s directly in front of her, fidgeting again since she’s unsure if she should interrupt.

“CatCo.?” Jess—as her nameplate says—looks up, a brow arched. Kara nods in affirmative, and the woman finishes up what she’s working on before touching the earpiece she’s wearing. “Mr. Spheer,” she pauses as something’s said and, in what Kara assumes is a fond display due to the smile tugging at Jess’ lips, rolls her eyes. “ _Jack_ , the reporter from CatCo. is here.” Another pause and then her hand falls back down to resume her typing. “Go on through.”

“Thank you.”

Kara pushes through the double doors, carefully taking in the office. It’s pretty standard for a CEO. A box-shaped room with a single wall of windows. There’s a miniature bar in the corner with a few stools at a counter. There are several other appliances for sitting, and there’s a bookshelf in another corner. Near the wall of windows, at the center, a desk sits with the man of the hour behind it. Jack Spheer stands as she enters, rounding his desk to meet her halfway in a firm handshake. He smiles wide as he exchanges greetings with her, and well—Kara can see why people call him charming.

“Thank you, Mr. Spheer, for allowing CatCo. this opportunity of an exclusive interview.”

“Oh, please, the pleasure’s all mine, Ms. —?”

“Danvers. But, um, you can just call me Kara.”

“Kara—Danvers.” He repeats slow, squinting slightly as he assesses her closely. His smile hardly falters; though Kara feels hers slightly wane under the scrutiny, rather confused by the change. She feels like she’s missing something, but a beat passes and so does the look. And he continues on breezily as if the moment hadn’t happened. “Well then, if I’m calling you Kara…”

“Jack, then.” Kara goes with it, not wanting to make a mountain out of a molehill. They walk to his desk, where he pulls out her chair for her—who said chivalry was dead—and they jump into the interview. They talk back and forth, Kara making notes here and there, and getting more into it as more information comes out. Biomax. Nanotechnology. Jack shows her footage of the nanites repairing torn skin. It’s _revolutionary_ , she writes and underlines twice; it’s  _phenomenal_.

“And,” Jack leans in as if to whisper some truly top-notch gossip. And Kara, so caught up in the moment, finds herself leaning in as well, absorbing his every word, “we’ve tested it against cancer cells.”

“Are you saying you might have found a cure for cancer?”

He winks in response, leaning back to sit properly again with a cheeky shrug. “Off the record?” She nods, lowering her pad and pen into her lap. “The nanites had a wee problem of being susceptible to… malicious intent. Which proved especially dangerous when a former employee tried to, let’s just say, use them for that intent. But I am lucky enough to have a talented R&D head who was able to weed out that issue. And now because of her, we indeed just might’ve found a cure for cancer. Tests are still underway, but we’re optimistic.”

Kara is just about buzzing with more questions, but the door opens before she can jump into voicing them. Jack’s smile lifts more into a smirk, but Kara barely registers it as she’s turning to look. And well, she freezes. Lena is just closing the door behind her, head buried in some papers, and hasn’t yet noticed her. Kara feels stunned stupid at her unexpected appearance; in a lab coat with the Spheerical logo on it, no less.

“Speak of the devil,” Jack murmurs.

“Jack, I need you to look at this report—”

“Lena! Just the woman I was talking about to Kara here.” Lena’s head snaps up, and Kara swallows uselessly as their eyes lock. She looks just as caught off guard, blinking owlishly, the papers she’s holding nearly slipping from her grasp. And  _she’s wearing her glasses_ , Kara’s mind fixates on them of all things. Perhaps because it sends her back to their college days when things were significantly less—well,  _less_. Jack stands then, rounding his desk to wave Lena over. “Kara, this is Lena Luthor, the head of Spheerical’s R&D department. Lena, this is Kara Danvers, lead, Pulitzer prize-bearing, investigative journalist at CatCo., and my interview for today.”

Kara feels like she’s getting whiplash from how much is being revealed and in such little time. She stares up at Jack, who apparently knows more about her than he let on; Jack, who winks back at her before turning back to Lena to wind an arm around her shoulders. Kara turns back to her too.  _Head of Spheerical’s R &D department_, Jack had said. But… wasn’t Lena heading Luthor Corp? That’s what she thought Lena was still doing, but she hadn’t exactly confirmed that, had she? She hadn’t asked anything about Lena’s current life.

“We, uh, we already know each other.” She finds herself stumbling through, standing as she holds out her hand. It’s a little awkward as Lena blinks down at it for a moment, but she eventually grasps it and Kara does a professionally two-pump shake before letting go. She tries not to think about the way Lena’s hand lingers.

“Oh? Where from?”

“College,” Lena answers, getting out of her stupor and moving on to glaring daggers into the side of Jack’s head. He studiously ignores the way her words bite out. Honestly, Kara’s a little offended by it. She doesn’t understand why Lena’s being so… like that. “We went to the same college.”

“Oh, huh. Small world.” Jack smiles, and Kara gets a distinct impression that he finds the entire situation amusing. She feels like she’s missing something like she’s hearing an inside joke that she isn’t privy to. She looks back at Lena, brows furrowed, and Lena sighs before elbowing Jack in the side. It prompts him to laugh and he puts his hands up as if to show innocence. “I didn’t set this up, I swear! I didn’t know Cat Grant was going to send her top  _investigative journalist_ for an interview on tech!”

“You know, that’s the second time you’ve clued in on knowing who I am,” she murmurs slowly, still comprehending. “I didn’t know you knew who I am.”

“Well, of course, I know!” He gesticulates widely, nearly whacking Lena in the face if she hadn’t moved. “I’m a rather big fan, you see. I  _especially_  liked that exposé you did on Morgan Edge. Quite frankly, it was only a matter of time before someone exposed the slimy bastard that he is. And I’m rather glad that it was you.”

“Oh, uh,” her cheeks heat up. Even after years of settling into her roles, Kara still doesn’t know how to take a compliment as is without getting flustered. “Thank you.”

Jack seems to notice how flustered she’s gotten, lighting up with some sort of idea behind his eyes. But before he can execute it, Jess peeks her head into the office, effectively finishing the conversation with a reminder that Jack has a meeting that will start with or without him. It startles the CEO into motion as he hastens to get to that meeting before that can happen. He turns to shake Kara’s hand again—

“It was absolutely a pleasure meeting you, Kara. I’m looking forward to reading your article on Biomax, big fan that I am. I hope that I’ll be seeing you around.”

—and hip checks Lena on his way out. When the door shuts behind him, Kara realizes that it’s just her and Lena now. She swallows, uncertain.

“Sorry about,” Lena starts and gestures vaguely toward the door, “him.”

“Oh, uh. There’s nothing to apologize for.”

“Well… that’s good then. I wasn’t  sure if he said something.” Kara’s brows furrow, not quite certain of what she means. Lena catches on to her confusion, waving a hand between them. “About us. He, uh, he knows about our past.”

“Oh.” Well, that certainly explained why she had that impression of him being amused, and why Lena had been glaring daggers at him.

“Yeah. I honestly wouldn’t put it past him to say something.”

“Well, he didn’t so,” she shrugs, putting her hands in her pockets and scuffing the floor. And just like that, the air between them goes taut with tension. Awkward and heavy. It’s what Kara feared would happen. It’s part of the reason why she was so apprehensive of the idea of meeting up with Lena again. As much as they text routinely and as much as they’ve fallen into old patterns, Kara’s still not sure on how to navigate this new but old friendship they have going on. It’s a lot easier said and done to move forward. But Kara tries anyway. She wants to. “I can’t believe you cured cancer.” Kara can’t help the slightly breathless way she says it, but she thinks it’s justified.

“Well, it’s not a cure yet.”

“Okay, but you’re a step closer to curing cancer. That’s a huge milestone, Lee.” The nickname slips out seamless, and they both jolt at the familiarity of the term. Kara stares wide-eyed at Lena, fumbling to take it back but unable to. Not when she gets stuck on the happy look that flashes on Lena’s face before disappearing in a grimace. Kara swallows, looking away as she tries to collect herself.

“You’ve also gained a few milestones,” Lena breaks the tension this time. And Kara looks back to Lena watching her carefully, curiously. “Jack’s right. Your work on Morgan Edge—your work in general—is fantastic. You’ve changed lives, taken down criminals, all with words. I mean, I’m not exactly surprised. Kara Danvers has always been my hero.” Lena stiffens then, fumbling much like Kara had. “I mean, uh. Sorry.”

“Apologizing kind of defeats the purpose of a compliment, doesn’t it?”

“You’re right,” and Lena’s been saying that a lot, it seems, “I just… I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Well, you haven’t.”

“That’s good. I’m—I’m glad. But you will tell me if I do, right?” Kara hesitates just long enough for Lena to deflate, downcast. And Kara has to suppress the urge to comfort her. “I just don’t want to mess this up.”

“I’ll tell you. But I’m confident that you—that  _we_ won’t mess up.” She smiles, trying for reassuring, and it works well enough to get Lena to smile back, small but genuine. There’s more that Kara finds herself wanting to say, more inquiries about Lena’s life, but her phone starts vibrating with an incoming call. Her _work_ phone. She looks at Lena, trying to convey something through her apologetic wince. “I have to get going.”

And Lena gets it. “Up, up and away, yeah?”

“Yeah,” and then, impulsively, she says, “Text me later?”

“I—yeah. Okay. Be careful out there, Kara.”

“I will.”

—

Kara’s been having a Day, capital and all. It starts with Mon-El spilling coffee on her notes at the DEO, then a group of humans decided to ambush a lone alien, then a spooked alien had wailed on her—which she can’t fault them for, they were just acting in self-defense—and then Brainy broke the news that Cadmus is on the move again. She had spent the majority of the day in her cape, and she desperately needs some respite.

So once she’s home, settling on her couch, she finds herself pressing call before she can second guess herself.

The phone only rings once before the call goes through. There’s an awkward moment where neither says anything, waiting for the other to say something first. And then, probably deciding she has to take the initiative, Lena’s slightly tinny voice sounds through.  _“Kara?”_

“What do you to focus on one thing when so many other things are going on?” The words slip out, and it’s rather reminiscent of the way they used to ask hypotheticals and what-ifs during the downtime between classes. And perhaps Lena is thinking of those times too because it’s silent for a moment where so much goes unsaid between them; so much that they won’t acknowledge right now. Kara swallows, breathing out slowly. “Asking for a friend.”

_“Well, in that case,”_ Lena huffs out a laugh, following Kara’s lead on moving forward.  _“I used to have these little boxes. Anytime I had an issue, an emotion, that I couldn’t deal with at the moment, I would stuff them into these boxes.”_

“Did it work?”

_“For a time.”_ She assumes that Lena’s sitting on a leather chair because it creeks as she hears Lena shift.  _“But it was always supposed to be a temporary fix. So, when I started using them as a permanent one, it became quite the problem.”_

“Then, what did you do?”

_“I, uh, I eventually opened them up one by one, took my time to sort through each one’s contents, and I—I sorted out the issues, confronted them. It took a long time, but I had help.”_

“From your friends?” It’s the first time Kara’s actively inquired into Lena’s personal life. She does know that Lena works at Spheerical labs and is apparently close enough to Jack Spheer to divulge their history to him, but that was by accident. And yet, since finding out about that, Kara finds herself curious to know more. She just isn’t quite sure how to… ask.

_“Well, yes. I had Jack, and Jess, and Sam._ ” Sam, Kara notes, the only name that doesn’t have a face to it.  _“But I… also had a therapist.”_

“A therapist?”

_“Mhm. Talking to someone with an outside perspective helps.”_

“That’s a good point. And well, I do have you.” Lena’s breath hitches and Kara’s listening close enough to detect the stutter in her heart. And she realizes how familiar she was just then. And darn it,  _boundaries, Kara, boundaries_. She needs to keep up some boundaries—it’s barely been two months—lest the stitches in her heart start unraveling. Lena probably meant someone with a degree for therapy anyway. “So, you’re Spheerical Industries’ R&D director?”

It’s an abrupt change in topic with no finesse whatsoever, but Lena doesn’t call her out on it.

_“Yeah, I started a couple of years ago.”_

“What about Luthor Corp?” Years ago, Lena was going to be the next CEO of Luthor Corp. And Kara always thought that the company is where Lena retreated to once she abruptly left. She never confirmed it though; Alex had made sure of that. Kara chews on her bottom lip as the silence stretches on, wondering if Luthor Corp is a more sensitive topic than she initially thought. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that.”

_“No, it’s okay. I was just thinking about how to word everything. It’s just—complicated. I took over for some time. I did some actual good, but… it wasn’t long until I realized just how much Lex still had his claws in the company. And as soon as I tried to dismantle that, the board began putting me under fire. It got to the point where it was inevitable that they found some way to kick me from the CEO position. So I, uh, to put it simply, I did some damage before I was fired._

_“And in the aftermath, Lillian blacklisted me from just about every company in Metropolis. Well, I’m certain it was her anyway. But Jack—we met once as fellow CEOs—does what Jack wants with his company and he offered me a job. And, well, the rest is history.”_ There’s a beat then where Lena finally takes the time to breathe,  _“You know, for a good while, I thought I had to be the CEO of Luthor Corp to make a difference; to restore the ‘good’ Luthor name. But I’ve realized... that I can do that where I am. I can make my own good Luthor legacy.”_

For a time there’s only silence between them as Lena lets it all sink in and Kara absorbs it all. There’s a lot that Kara can say in response. The words  _that must have been hard_  and  _I’m proud of you_ and  _I’m sorry_  are on the tip of her tongue. But none of them seem appropriate to say in response, and none of it feels like enough to convey how she feels. So she settles on a small and breathless, “I don’t know what to say.”

_“You don’t need to know, Kara._ ” Lena reassures her, honest and genuine. _“Thank you for listening.”_

“Always.” She finds herself promising, and the conversation sort of trails off into silence. But this silence isn’t awkward or heavy. It’s kind of—comfortable.

_“Can I ask,”_ Lena eventually breaks the silence,  _“about what’s troubling you?”_

“Yes, you can.” Kara sinks into her couch cushions, grinning cheekily as Lena grumbles. Even without seeing her, Kara can hear the fond smile tugging at her lips. She can imagine Lena trying to resist it, but ultimately, the smile blooms freely, uninhibited.

_“Alright, smartass.”_ She laughs at Lena’s mock-chiding and slumps to lay across her couch, curling up to hug her knees to her chest.  _“Will you tell me what happened?”_

And just like that, Kara obliges readily, divulging all the ins and outs of her day. Lena listens attentively, humming along and occasionally inserting a comment here and there. It goes back and forth a few times until they run out things to say, and even then it takes a few moments for them to finally exchange goodbyes. A smile pulls taut at her cheeks as Kara presses the end call button. But it falters just slightly as she sees the call time. An hour and fourteen and some seconds. The sun has even started setting and she hadn’t noticed. The time had passed so quickly and easily with Lena’s voice in her ear.

Old habits. They just keep cropping up with her permission, don’t they?

—

_Happy birthday, Kara._

Normally, Kara isn’t one to cry because of a midnight birthday greeting—well, not anymore. But today isn’t her birthday. It isn’t her  _Earth_  birthday. It’s a few months too early for it. But it’s exactly on time for her  _Kryptonian_ birthday. Which is exactly why she’s crying. She hasn’t been greeted  _happy birthday_ on this day in forty-one years. Forty-one.

So sue her if she’s a bit emotional right now.

The tears that cling to her lashes and blur her vision makes typing out a response slightly more difficult. It takes Kara a while to actually send a response. She types and deletes and re-types several times, never quite satisfied with what she writes. There are _how did you know_ ’s and  _you have no idea how much this means to me_ ’s and  _this is everything_ ’s in her head. But she starts and stops before they can be fully articulated, even if they continue to run circles in her mind.

In the end, she goes with a simple  _thank you_ , firmly believing that Lena will get all the unsaid things she’s trying to convey.

She goes to sleep with a racing heart.

And in the morning, she wakes to a single heart emoji.

(Yeah, Lena understood.)

—

_So, what does one bring to a game night?_

_Asking for a friend._

The second one was sent immediately after the other as if in afterthought. And Kara smiles, feelings overwhelmingly fond because it’s such a Lena thing to ask. She sends off a quick response— _Just bring yourself, silly. Answering for a friend_ —before turning to continue pouring chips into a bowl. She studiously ignores the pair of eyes staring intensely at the side of her face. And instead, she picks up a stray chip and promptly shoves it into her mouth.

“So,” and of course, just because  _she_ wants to ignore the elephant in the room doesn’t mean that Alex does too, “Lena’s coming over.”

It isn’t a question, but Kara answers as if it is anyway, “Yup.” And she throws another chip into her mouth, trying again to ignore the elephant tooting around. It doesn’t work though because Alex is being a persistent buttmunch and throws a handful of M&M’s at her. She yelps. “Alex! Just great. Now I have to pick all of those up.”

“Oh, woe is you,” Alex pouts exaggeratedly at her, rolling her eyes. “It’s not like you have a thing called super-speed that will make the process quick and easy for you.” Kara sticks out her tongue at the sarcasm but serves to prove her point by speeding her way through the cleanup. “ _Anyway_ , back to the topic: Lena Luthor.”

“I invited her over for game night, what more do you want me to say?”

“And you’re sure you’re ready for that? Having her here,” she gestures around them, around the apartment, “in your home.”

“I don’t see why I not.”

“Oh-kay. If you’re sure.”

“I am.”

Alex puts up her hands then, finally relenting. The two of them continue to prep snacks for the night and then split to take care of other preparations. Kara hastens to ‘tidy up’ the living area while Alex brings out the games— _no Monopoly, Alex! I want to have a good time tonight_ —to stack on the coffee table. It isn’t long until the first of the Superfriends arrive. First James and Winn, then Nia, and then Brainy. Kara’s a little bummed that Lucy couldn’t come back for the month, but she’s a busy woman in charge of an entire secret organization.

Game night doesn’t start until nearly an hour after they’ve gathered. Kara insists on it because she’s still waiting for Lena to show. But as time continues ticking, her resolve wavers. She checks her phone with increasing frequency, sending off one text and then another, but she gets nothing. The others notice quickly—and she’s sure Alex is just raring to say something—but they don’t get to ask before a reply finally comes through.

_I’m sorry_ , it says and Kara’s heart immediately sinks _, I might not make it to game night. There’s an emergency at the labs._

She sends off a quick reply— _ok_ —and tries to hide her disappointment. But it must radiate from her entire being because the Superfriends immediately start pulling her into a game of charades. It takes several beats for Kara to get in the groove of things, but when she does, it’s almost enough to put Lena out of mind.

Almost.

Aside from the bumpy start, game night goes well. She gets her laughs and has her fun with some of her favorite people. And just when the night seems to start winding down, a slight scuffle sounds behind her door before a knock raps on it. They all turn with similarly bemused expressions, not expecting anyone else. Kara squints above the top of her glasses, gasping.

Behind her door, a disgruntled looking Lena—her hair tied in an attractive, messy bun and her glasses are slightly askew—is being held in a headlock by a beaming Jack, who’s talking animatedly. Behind them, Kara recognizes Jess, who’s looking at them with fond exasperation. There’s another woman there too, looking amused more than anything, and Kara can only assume— _I had Jack, and Jess, and Sam_ —that she’s Sam.

Without a word, Kara speeds through getting to the door, opening it with a surely stunned and bemused crinkle between her brows. The four of them immediately turn to her with a variety of smiles. Lena grins sheepishly from where she’s still in a headlock. “Hey.”

“Hi.”

Someone (Sam) fakes a cough which seems to kick Lena into gear. The woman elbows Jack away and straightens herself out. She steps close to Kara, her eyes flickering briefly over her shoulder to where her friends are no doubt staring openly. And then green eyes meet blue, almost shyly. “Right, um, sorry for canceling and then turning up late. I really wanted to come, but—”

“It’s okay, Lena. You had an emergency.”

“Still. I hope it’s not too late to join?”

Kara glances back at her friends, all of whom look away as if they hadn’t been staring. Well, all except Alex who continues to stare openly. She thinks about how disappointed she was, how she had deflated, and how some part of her had continuously been stuck on Lena not making it. So, when she turns back to give her an answer, she just about beams. “I’d say it’s never too late.”

Lena returns the smile and then turns to the trio who more or less pretending not to be eavesdropping. “Uh, you don’t mind more company, do you? I would have asked sooner, but my phone died.”

“We always love more company!” Nia pipes in from behind her, and Kara rolls her eyes fondly.

“What she said.”

Lena relaxes then, blowing out a sigh of relief as she introduces and reintroduces the friends tagging along. She confirms Sam’s identity— _Spheerical’s CFO,_  she says—and Kara eagerly invites them in. Introductions are made with the Superfriends and Kara finds that their two groups mingle seamlessly. Lena lingers by her side as they watch their friends socialize. As Kara listens to her friends laugh—even her sister, notorious for being wary of newcomers—she finds her heart swelling like it hasn’t in a while.

She turns to Lena, her heart tripping when she already finds green eyes watching her. Her hand twitches with the urge to reach out—to take Lena’s hand, to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, to touch her—but she ends up curling her hands and hiding them away. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Lena’s face softens, flashing with some emotion Kara doesn’t decipher in time, and says, “I’m happy to be here.”

“You guys have Monopoly?” Kara isn’t sure who says it, but she immediately jumps in to shut it down.

“No!”

“Yes!” She and Alex speak at the same time. And before she can protest, Alex is already up to retrieve the game. Normally, Kara would use her super-speed to intercept her, but there are a good three people that aren’t in the know of her Super status. So, all she can do is sit back and groan as Alex returns with the boardgame, grinning triumphantly. “Get ready to get your asses handed to you, corporates!”

“Oh, we’ll see about that,” Jess grins viciously.

“Great,” Kara mutters, “just great.”

“Don’t worry, Kara,” Lena winks conspiratorially, smiling wickedly. “I’ve got you.”

And well, Monopoly against four people with corporate experience is a different beast entirely. But all in all, it’s a good night.

(Especially when Sam ends Alex’s winning streak.)

—

Cadmus, as Brainy predicted, makes a move a few weeks later.

The DEO gets word that the organization has planted two bombs in the city. It takes time for Kara and the agents to track them down. And she barely gets to the first bomb in time to chuck it into space. She’s slower to get to the second one. She’s just within grasping range when it detonates. And though civilians were cleared, people are still caught in the blast and the debris. She loses two agents and a few lingering civilians sustained injuries.

Kara’s sent home after the debriefing. J’onn insists that she take a break when she protests, lest she start spiraling. But even in the walls of her apartment, she can’t keep still, can’t keep from thinking. She paces and paces and paces, going over the events in her head. And she tries to understand where she went wrong. Why couldn’t she have moved quicker?

A knock interrupts her pacing. And she debates ignoring it, debates telling the person to go away. But looking through the door reveals Lena, and she finds that she can’t ignore her. Especially not when she sees Lena wringing her hands and worrying at her lip, clearly concerned. So she opens the door. She doesn’t say anything in greeting though, just turns back around to resume her pacing.

She hears Lena shut the door behind her and sit down on one of her stools. She feels Lena’s eyes on her, tracking her movement and assessing her. But silence continues between them, and it isn’t long until it starts grating on Kara. There’s heat in her chest, much like the first day they saw each other again, and she whips around on her heels.

“Why are you here?” It comes out harsher than she intends, but she doesn’t backtrack, not even as Lena blinks owlishly at her, clearly taken aback. But Lena takes it in stride.

“I wanted to check up on you.”

“Well,” she gestures to herself, “I’m clearly fine.”

There’s a pause then where they both just look at each other. And then Lena breaths in slow and exhales, her mouth slightly pinched. “Yes,  _physically_ fine.”

“Lena—”

“I just—I know how hard these situations weigh on you.”

“Oh, do you? You know me so well, huh?” Lena’s lips purse slightly at the anger in her voice, but she doesn’t close off, doesn’t get defensive. And, for some reason, it just makes Kara angrier. Her vision blurs as tears flood against her eyelashes. She scrubs them away even as she lashes out at Lena, turning her frustration toward her. “How would you know?! You haven’t been around for _seven_ years, Lena!”

“I know,” Lena starts, calm still, “that you still wear your heart on your sleeve.”

“And you would be an expert on that, wouldn’t you?”

“People change, that’s true. But I doubt your heart has.” Lena stands up, walks slowly as if not to spook her. It works because Kara finds herself stilling but not inching away. “There’s always good in there.  _And_ there’s the guilt of not saving everyone. The fear of not being enough.”

“It’s not really your place to say that, is it? Not when you weren’t there.” She trails off, her energy and her voice depleting. She rubs at her ruddy cheeks, swiping at the fat tears rolling down her cheeks and wiping at the snot dripping over her lips. “You weren’t there.”

Lena hugs her, slow and loose at first, and tucks her head beneath her chin despite being shorter. It serves to break the dam and she hiccups as sobs wrack through her. She presses closer into Lena, clutching at her crewneck, both ignoring the way the material tears under her grip. Lena’s arms wind tighter around her, cradling her. “I know,” she says, “I know. I’m here now, and I’m not letting go. I  _won’t_ let go.”

It takes some time for Kara to fully cry out her frustrations. Throughout it all, Lena just continues to embrace her. She runs a hand against the column of Kara’s spine, soothing, and shifts to accommodate Kara as she nuzzles forward to fit into the crook between her neck and shoulder. Even when her tears subside, her lungs still stutter and she trembles still.

“Sorry for yelling at you,” she manages meekly.

But Lena just shrugs her opposite shoulder—Kara feels it more than sees it—and says, “I understand why you did.”

“I shouldn’t have  taken my frustrations out on you, though.”

“Probably not, but we can work past that. You  _did_ have a good point, though,” Lena makes to move away, but Kara holds fast against her. Maybe a bit too fast because the air whooshes out of Lena’s lungs for a moment. She murmurs an apology but Lena waves it off. “It’s true, I haven’t been there for you for seven years. And, honestly, I shouldn’t have assumed you would want me here now.”

“I do,” she answers immediately. “I want you here,” and she means that with all her being.

—

Lena invites her to lunch.

Although their phone calls and texts (and the occasional facetime) are daily occurrences, they have yet to meet for a meal. It’s rare enough for her and Lena to be alone together—their individual friend groups have basically become their mutual friends out of their own volition—so Kara hardly gives it a second thought when she accepts the invitation. But then she realizes they’ll be fully alone. Well, in public, so not fully alone. But it will be at lunch.

And well, lunch had sort of been their ‘thing.’

Remembering that, Kara’s a tad nervous.

“Will you just pick an outfit already?” And Alex is getting a little snippy while helping her prepare. But maybe she has a point. Kara’s been changing clothes every minute, barely letting her sister get an opinion in before she speeds out of it; the pile of clothes on her bed keeps growing with each moment. Okay, so maybe she’s a lot nervous. But she wants this lunch to go right considering it’s the next step in their— “You’re acting like you’re about to go on a date.”

Kara scoffs, “We’re just friends, Alex.”

“Isn’t that what you said last time too?”

Which is a point, but Kara’s not going to acknowledge it. She just grumbles instead and puts on another outfit. She smooths down the fitting material of the off-the-shoulder dress, appraising herself in her full body mirror. And once she starts wondering if Lena will like it, she realizes that  _Rao_ , Alex is right. She is acting like she’s going on a date. And it’s probably because it’s lunch and Lena; lunch  _with_ Lena. But it’s just old habits and all that. Yup, that’s it. That’s why she’s all nervous and fidgety.

“I’m just excited.” She sees Alex’s face twist in the reflection, a mix between curiosity and bemusement. “What?”

“Nothing. Nothing. You just—seem happier. It’s a good thing.”

“I’ve  _been_ happy.” She doesn’t think there’s been a substantial time where she  _wasn’t_ happy. Okay, that’s a bit of a fib. There were a few times that revolved around abandonment issues and a toxic relationship, but that’s relatively far from her present that she doesn’t think it affects her now. She’s been happier since her careers took off—both of them.

“True, but I mean…” Alex fumbles slightly as she tries to grasp what words to use. “You got your closure. You’re moving forward.”

“Yeah… moving forward.” Not moving on. She doesn’t need to move on anymore, but she can move forward with Lena back in her life—she has been moving forward with Lena back in her life. And although this new chapter may be somewhat reminiscent of an old on, it’s better. She and Lena have grown and for the better. And they can continue to grow for the better.

Together.

—

Lunch, it seems, will always be to be their thing.

(It goes well. It goes  _really_ well.)

—

Lena, Kara knows from  _before_ , is tactile in her affection. And as they renew the familiarity between them, Kara realizes that that hasn’t changed in the years they’ve spent apart. In their interactions now, it started tentative—like how Lena linked their pinkies, reminiscent of their college days, young and jittery in their feelings. But it’s been growing bolder now;  _casual_.

There’s Lena, leaning into her with the force of her laughter. There’s Lena, placing a hand on Kara’s knee (and never above the knee) as they talk about something or another. There’s Lena, hesitating just a moment before planting a parting kiss on her cheek.

And Kara’s so hyper-aware of Lena these days (all days) that she notices. Her heart certainly notices too. The way it trips over itself is quite a familiar feeling.

So is the trepidation that shadows it.

—

Spheerical Labs catches fire.

There’s a small explosion that Kara hears while in a meeting. She slips away in the chaos, quickly changing to her uniform. Her heart thuds heavy against her chest, fear churning her stomach. She works in tandem with the authorities that arrive, escorting people out and putting out the flames. But even when things start winding down, her nerves still stand on end. She’s half-distracted as she debriefs with the authorities, sweeping her gaze around to find black hair and green eyes.

She doesn’t find them.

There’s no sign of Lena anywhere.

And she knows Lena was in the labs today. Evident by the (frankly awful yet endearingly charming) selfie she was sent earlier that showcased the lab around her. But Kara can’t find her in the amassing crowd of paramedics, firefighters, police and news crew. She tries to listen for her heartbeat but finds herself unable to hear it. It sends her nerves further aflame, panic lodging itself into her throat.

She leaves the scene as soon as the authorities have it under control, changing out of her uniform and dialing Lena’s number. It goes straight to voicemail. That doesn’t do anything for her nerves. And the thoughts come flooding. What if Lena’s hurt? What if she’s unconscious? Did she lose her phone? Is it dead? Is _Lena_ —?

Kara doesn’t finish that last thought.

She goes back to the scene and checks around again. She worries at her lip as she moves through the crowd, asking if anyone has seen Lena. But every little response comes back negative. She feels like she’s running in circles, coming back to the same people who only have a  _no_ to answer with. It drives her a little nuts and she just might start pulling her hair out. But then, she catches green eyes.

They’re slightly dazed but manage to focus on her, luring her in. Kara pushes through the crowd, a woman on a mission with overwhelming relief coursing through her veins. But her heart has yet to rest in its racing marathon. The closer she gets, the more details she can see. There’s a scuff mark beneath one green eye and a cut above the other, slashing across a manicured brow. But other than those, Lena seems unharmed. Yet still, Kara thinks about the possibilities. She thinks about how close Lena must have been to the explosion, how much harm could have been done. How close she was to losing Lena if the possibilities were more against her.

It’s with those thoughts flooding her mind, pumping her heart, that she reacts. As soon as she’s within arm's length, Kara doesn’t think, she just acts.

She grabs Lena by the collar of her lab coat, barely even registering the rapid way Lena’s eyes widen and the  _Kara!?_ that squeaks out of her. And she yanks her forward (she’s being conscious enough to not tear at her coat or break any of Lena’s teeth).

She kisses her.

Kara kisses Lena. Plants one right on her lips. It’s slightly harsh with the force of all the emotions Kara’s been having in such a short amount of time. She keeps it quick, chaste, not really giving Lena enough time to respond beyond a surprised gasp that catches in her throat. She’s still holding Lena by her lapels when she pulls back, panting just slightly. Lena’s still got that dazed look, but Kara imagines it’s for a different reason now. Perhaps she shouldn’t have just sprung that on her. She smooths out the rumpled material of Lena’s coat, breathing out an apology. “Sorry.”

She doesn’t really mean it, especially not when Lena’s tongue darts out. But Lena nods slowly, lifting her hands to hold Kara’s fretting ones. Almost absentmindedly, Lena presses one over her heart, effectively soothing Kara in a way that nothing else would have at that moment. Lena entwines their fingers of their other hands, running her thumb lightly over her knuckles. It’s then that Kara realizes that she’s trembling visibly, the adrenaline from earlier crashing.

“I’m okay, Kara,” Lena reassures her. Kara doesn’t respond, just gently breaks out of her hold and winds her arms around her. She tucks Lena beneath her chin, trying to hold her as close as possible. Close as they are, Kara feels their heartbeats intertwine. A call and response. She feels Lena release a shuddering breathing, feels Lena clutch tight to her back. Noise continues around them, but all Kara can hear is Lena. All she feels is Lena. All she thinks is—Lena, Lena, Lena.

And, they’re going to be okay.

—

They don’t talk about the kiss.

—

“So,” the credits of their sister night movie begin to roll, and of course, Alex takes that as her queue to start her mini-interrogation. Kara has the feeling she’s been raring to do it since the movie began, “what’s up with you and Lena?”

“What do you mean?” Kara’s not entirely sure what she’s getting at. Sure, Lena’s pulling away a little in the tactile sense. She’s started to notice the way Lena… _spooks_ whenever Kara tries to hold her hand or initiate a hug. And she notices the way Lena’s started to disengage from touch sooner than she usually would. And yeah, maybe that stings. Maybe it  _absolutely_ stings. And maybe she’s been letting her hurt over it fester, ultimately affecting her own interaction with Lena.

Okay, so maybe Kara does know what Alex means.

“Kara.”

“I know. Or well, I  _don’t_ know. I don’t know what’s going on.” She tells Alex where she thinks it all began. About the explosion at Spheerical Labs (which Alex already knows about but context is important) and about the kiss because she’s pretty sure that’s the catalyst for what’s currently going on. She puts her face in her hands after she's done, groaning pitifully. “I don’t know what to do, Alex.”

“Well, it sounds like a whole mess. A mess of miscommunication, anyway.” She hears Alex shift and soon enough a hand is patting her back. “You know… you have a tendency of making impulsive decisions while high on adrenaline. Impulsive decisions that, most of the time, you regret. And you also  _apologize_ for them. That hasn’t exactly changed in the last ten years.”

It takes a moment for that to really sink into Kara’s head, for her to process. And when it does, she groans again.  _Rao_ , Alex is absolutely right. It’s all just one huge miscommunication that started with her inability to just say, boldface, that she didn’t regret kissing Lena; that she would like to continue kissing Lena. In a relationship way, not a friends-with-benefits way (like that would work out anyway). And with this miscommunication (or lack thereof), she and Lena have fallen back on bad, old habits of just not saying anything.

“Oh gods, I need to go talk to Lena. Now.”

She stands then, quick on her feet. But she pauses at the door, realizing she doesn’t know where Lena lives. Alex notices and, like the absolute best sister that she is, rattles off an address. How does she know where Lena lives, Kara will put off asking for the moment. With a jumbled yell of thanks, she quickly heads off to Lena’s apartment which, turns out, isn’t far from her own. It’s too-late-at-night o’clock, but Kara’s a woman on a mission and knocks anyway.

And well, Kara outlines a whole speech on her walk to Lena’s. She’s got it all planned out by the time she knocks. It’s a speech that confessions and clarifies just what kind of feelings Kara is having for Lena (i.e. romantic), but when a disgruntled looking Lena opens the door, it all just goes out the window. Kara finds her rumpled look—her bedhead an absolute birds nest, her eyes squinting up at Kara (sans glasses), her shirt collar askew—unfairly attractive. It’s like her heart swells ten times and it tries breaking out of her chest by knocking a hammer against the bone.

So, instead of a speech like she planned, she impulsively (but absolutely genuine) grabs at the collar of Lena’s shirt and kisses her.

It’s very much reminiscent of the kiss from before. She keeps it chaste, pulling away before Lena can properly respond. But she lingers in her space, watching as Lena gives her that same dazed look. Kara wants to kiss her again for it, and she feels her hands flex with the urge to pull her in for another, but she finds just enough will to resist so that she can clarify something first.

“Just so you know, this isn’t a one-off thing. The kiss before wasn’t one-off either. I actually,  _genuinely_  like you. Like,  _like_ -like you.” And this time, it’s Lena who kisses her. It’s just as chaste but still manages to steal her breath away. In this context, she quite likes the effect it has on her.

“I love you,” Lena confesses, “I don’t think I’ve ever stopped loving you. Romantically. I think it’s changed for the better—evolved—just like we have.”

“Well, that was a better confession than mine.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I liked it.” Kara kisses her again, lingering this time around. And in the aftermath, she rests their foreheads together, taking her time when opening her eyes. She finds that Lena’s already watching her, a sort of disbelieving gleam in her eyes. It makes Kara want to kiss her again and again until Lena starts wholly believing that this is real. But, first thing’s first, “Invite me inside?”

It doesn’t take much convincing.

—

“So, tell anyone else I said this and I won’t talk to you again, but,” Alex leans in to whisper as they pour more snacks for game night, trying to keep out of hearing range from the others, “if soulmates are an actual thing, I truly believe that you and Lena are a prime example.”

“Really?” Kara can't quite keep the shock out of her voice. Her words crack just slightly from the shock. And because she's rather touched by Alex's supportive words. Her sister shrugs, but her words remain genuine in meaning.

“Yeah. You two—you’re like inevitable, I’d say.”

Lena takes that moment that hurry them up so that they can resume their game. Alex rolls her eyes fondly and complies, hip-checking them both as she goes to rejoin their friends. But Lena lingers in Kara’s space, pressing a kiss to her fluttering pulse point. She seeks out another kiss for her lips, smiling wide when Lena readily receives her. It makes her all the more fond.

Inevitable. Kara quite likes the sound of that.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!


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